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Quote by Danielle Evans, The Office of Historical Corrections: A Novella and Stories

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Danielle Evans, The Office of Historical Corrections: A Novella and Stories

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“Prohibitions themselves are no longer transcendent. Once upon a time they were signified to us from on high by laws that came from a far-off region - perhaps, here again, an Island of Prohibitions, ruled over by a divinity concerned for our fate. But today they too have been internalized; they are produced by the brain. It is we who produce them; they are secretions of the individual unconscious. They no longer have any grandeur, nor, in the end, do they even have any charm. They either disappear purely and simply (it is forbidden to forbid), or become once again, paradoxically, objects of nostalgia, objects of desire - where once they separated us from the accomplishment of desire.”

“It was strange. It was painful. It was wonderful. It was something unique to the twentieth century. To sit in a theater in 1994 and fall in love with a woman from 1929 … that would be like sitting in a theater in 1929 and falling in love with someone from 1864 … or like watching 1994 from the year 2059. These leaps across time are fantastic. Yet it’s inevitable that soon people will think nothing of watching a movie from a century before, any more than we would consider it odd to read a hundred-year-old book.”

“He looked around the room: the light from outside was laying a big pattern across Goody’s bed and hitting this little rug he had, the kind you use to step out of the shower. The floor itself was made out of those big squares of thinnest-possible linoleum, many of them chipped and broken at the corners; all kinds of hair and shit got stuck down there and ground in over time. A paper clip, a trapezoid shard of an old broken light bulb, a flattened-out piece of gum from the Second World War. Pick made a vow never to go barefoot in this room.”

“i miss the days my friends knew every mundane detail about my life and i knew every ordinary detail about theirs adulthood has starved me of that consistency that us the walks around the block the long conversations when we were too lost in the moment to care what time it was when we won and celebrated when we failed and celebrated harder when we were just kids now we have our very important jobs that fill up our very busy schedules we compare calendars just to plan coffee dates that one of us eventually cancels cause adulthood is being too exhausted to leave our apartment most days i miss knowing i once belonged to a group of people bigger than myself that belonging made life easier to live - friendship nostalgia”